The Rose Knows
Have I been a good gardener?
I ask myself that question each year around this time. The growing season is winding down (but the peppers are still going strong!), and as I clear the beds after each varietal makes its last offering to the harvest basket, I think about the cycle from sowing to reaping.
What went wrong?
How did I address the problems?
What went right?
Did I do enough to ensure each plant’s success?
This year, in addition to my fruits and vegetables, I planted a rose to mark a different kind of spring celebration.
Actually, calling it a rose was a bit of a stretch.
It was a stick.
I planted a stick.
And around that stick, Handan, Barish and I placed written wishes sealed in plastic.
Now, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting much from this stick. But like a dutiful gardener, I watered it whenever I watered my vegetables.
Other than that, I let it be.
And you know what?
One day I came out to check my garden, and I noticed my stick had grown some leaves.
Each day I checked, and each day there was another leaf. To me, this was some powerful life-from-death wizardry! It was just a gnarled stick when I bought it!
About two months after I had planted my stick, when the earth was warm and the trees were full, I looked at my leafy companion and saw something I never expected to see. After all, they told me that the stick would probably not live. And after it gave leaves, they assured me it wouldn’t bloom – at least not this year. But it seems they were wrong.
This stick wanted to be a rose, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could say or do to stop it!
And then this.
Small and defiant in a world much bigger and more established than it.
But it was a rose, and so it would be a rose.
And that got me thinking.
Have I been a good gardener to my son?
Have I done all that I can for him to succeed?
I often think I come up short as a dad. I mean, he’s not even my real son, right? We don’t share blood.
I wasn’t there for that initial bond.
I didn’t clean a diaper in the middle of the night.
I didn’t even clean a diaper during the day!
I missed out on the ordeal of parenthood during those early years – the years that all parents bitch about.
But also the years that maybe are the most important? The ones they credit for establishing the bond.
So I came late to the parenting game, and I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.
I think I’ve been too hard on the kid.
I think I haven’t done enough for the kid.
I think that some of the stuff I did do should have been different.
Every day and every night (usually around 3am), his life and future swirl around my brain, and I still don’t know what’s right.
(Will I ever know?)
I stress over all the little things I see him doing wrong, even though he’s doing so much more that is right.
He drives me bananas on an almost daily basis, because even though we’re not biologically related, I see my young self in him.
I see all the mistakes I made, and I see him repeating them.
And it frustrates the hell out of me that I can’t always prevent him from repeating them.
Or from making new ones.
But then.
But then, every once and a while, I’m able to step back from myself and just have a casual look at my son.
And what I see?
What I see is a fine young man navigating the tortuous road to adulthood in the best way he can.
A bit unsure of himself, perhaps.
A bit lost in a world that is now expanding exponentially around him as the comforting walls of childhood crumble away, one-by-one.
But regardless of my fears for him, regardless of how much more I think I should be doing for him, he is barreling towards the one thing he is destined to be, the one thing that no word nor action can stop: a decent and honorable man.
He is the leafy stick.
His bloom is inevitable.
And it will be glorious.
Yup…franki
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What a heart-felt and well written piece! Good for you. I appreciate your doubt and apprehension towards the parenting task. It is certainly daunting. However, let me assure you that once you can look in the mirror and say “I have done my best gardening” to yourself, your job is done. He will be whatever variety of rose his destiny, your teachings and his judgment will decide. In the meantime, enjoy the time you have to nurture and help him become the man you hope him to be. And, for goodness sake STOP fretting at 3:00 a.m.! lol PS If it gives me any credibility, this experienced advice comes from a great-grandmother…..just sayin’
Thank you, Linda! I hope to reach that day when I can look in the mirror and say that!
Thank you for sharing information about Barish…your love for him is evident in your words! Good job Dad’
Roni
Thank you, Roni!
Great analogy. The fact that you’ve put so much thought into this, it keeps you up at night and you are there for your son NOW is what counts the most. Kids don’t even remember those early ‘bonding’ years (do you?). Your son will only remember the fun and remarkable times that will leave an indelible mark and help guide who he becomes. You are an amazing role model and embody all the signs of being a great Dad – so don’t ever question that!!
Thank you, Sara! You’re right about that. Handan and I should be focusing on making the rest of these years as fun as possible!
I love you man. You make my day.
We all worry and second guess ourselves. My daughter is 36, and I still wonder- should I have done this better, or more of this and less of that… But at the end of the day, she’s turned into a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and responsible woman. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
Just do the best you can. If you didn’t worry… I’d be worried.
Thank you so much, Melanie!
Greg, wow! What a heartfelt and beautiful tribute you have written about your SON! Rest assured that blood does not make a parent. Your love and caring is what bonds you two together. You are lucky and blessed to have each other.
Thanks, Melva! đŸ™‚
Very nicely said,Greg. We do the best we can…and always wonder if it was enough. Loving kindness,good example and integrity are very visible to young people. Just keep on cultivating! Kids sure need lots of good care …this world is intent on shaping them in its own mold.
Thank you, Bernice!
Clearly, Barish IS your son. DO NOT ever use the phrase “he is not my real son” again. He may have two Dads but that does not make you a lesser one. Be a parent. Kids depend on us for that, even when they tell us they hate us for it. Own it when you mess up and apologize humbly, they learn from that and respect it. Embarrass him with your pride in his accomplishments, he will bloom. Love his Mama and you will all find joy in a united heritage. Yeah, those will be YOUR grandchildren, too. Love you guys!
Thank you, Derry, and you’re right. I do consider him to be my own đŸ™‚
Greg, I am a 46 year old mother to 3 BEAUTIFUL children that I didn’t birth. I met their dad 18 years ago. They are 31, 29 and 24 years old with 3 AMAZING grandbaby girls and 1 more girl on the way! It has been a journey I NEVER expected BUT wouldn’t TRADE it for anything else!!! Your tribute to your own journey in your life and the life of Barish and Handen is one of pure love of a strong man with determination such as that of the rose. Thank you for your story. My kids respect and love me (at least I can only hope that they do) I know Barish does the same for you! Besides ~ your a pretty cool guy with pretty cool and amazing talent ?
Hi Michelle, I sorry for the late reply! Thank you so much, and wow! what an adventure you’ve had! I think grandkids are still a ways off for us (i hope!) – but someday we’ll get there too đŸ™‚
Greg,
I raised two young men I actually gave birth too. I was very strict with them because I feared modern day drug usage and all that goes with raising teenagers. Is spite of the strictness my husband and I had a very good relationship while they went to college and each married and had children. I was never happier. They never got into trouble and they were excellent students.
One is a doctor and the other is a teacher. They are both successful. Fast forward and one son has cut all ties with me. Neither of them live in my state but we always visited them and even more when grandchildren came along. My husband of 46 years suffers from a neurological disease with no cure. After 14 years I had to place him in an assisted living facility. This prompted the son who lives over 10 hours away by car to despise me. Almost 40 years of childcare and paying for both of their education and this is the thanks I get. My situation is not an isolated one. I know of other moms who have sons and they are estranged too. This will show you that even biological sons can change when they mature (and I use that term lightly), So Greg, just do your best and don’t feel guilty. None of us are perfect. I’m sure the teenage years are problematic for all parents, but your son will learn valuable skills from you and your wife and turn out to be a good role model to his children. My boys are great dads to their kids although they are not yet teenagers. I pray they will get through those trying years and have long-lasting relationships when they are senior citizens.
Thank you for sharing this deeply personal story, Nancy. I have written back to you privately via email.
Bah, anyone can share genes. What you do daily makes you the real father to Barish and he will know it. Don’t worry the little things, he will become what he is destined to become because or regardless of what anyone does. Just let him let his own brand of light shine.
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I’m sure if you keep ‘watering and feeding’ your son that he will grow up just fine! You’re an amazing person — one who wants to be a good father even though you missed the delights of those poopy diapers, spit up on your shoulders, and the ‘why, why, why’ stage of a three-year-old. Lots of men don’t ponder about what kind of a father they are. So, hands down, you’re a great father because you’re thinking about your relationship and how you can nurture your son. There may be storms to endure and weeds to pull out, but in the end both he and YOU will turn out awesome!
Thank you, Nina! It’s not always easy to understand if I’m doing it right! There’s no manual and no grading process for parenting! đŸ™‚
The man I call “daddy” was not my biological father. He was not legally, or morally, or financially responsible for me. But he was all those things. The man who was legally, morally, and financially responsible for me was none of those things. I won’t say what I call him. Love has nothing to do with blood. I miss daddy every day. I was so lucky he was who he was. Barish is lucky too.
Thank you for sharing, Elizabeth đŸ™‚